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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/22721830">Tiny Dancer</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/hellcsweetie/pseuds/hellcsweetie'>hellcsweetie</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>The Food Of Love [2]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Suits (US TV)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>F/M, Fluff, Kid Fic, Post-Canon, Songfic</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-02-14</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-02-14</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-18 04:06:53</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,753</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/22721830</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/hellcsweetie/pseuds/hellcsweetie</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Harvey and Donna share a dance in their new home.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Donna Paulsen/Harvey Specter</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>The Food Of Love [2]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1756051</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>5</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>26</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Tiny Dancer</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Just a pointless, fluffy little something for today.</p><p>Happy Valentine’s Day, everyone! &lt;3</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The last couple of times Harvey moved, he hired a company to take care of everything (and he had Donna in charge). The last time he actually took any part in the moving and/or organization of his things, he was fresh off college and had very few things to move and organize in the first place.</p><p></p><div>
  <p>So he was not prepared for Donna telling him she wanted them to refurbish their new home themselves (“that way it’ll feel more ours”, she’d argued), let alone for the unending insufferable ordeal it is. It seems to mean a great deal to her, so of course he’s been trying his best, but it just sucks. Night after night of going to décor stores of all kinds, from Ikea to art galleries, trying to decide on things that can translate a fusion of her timeless chic and his modern minimalistic styles.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>Their weekends get consumed by shopping, organizing, cleaning. Work is less intense, but that doesn’t mean he feels any better about relinquishing every last free minute they have. </p>
</div><div>
  <p>The good part is that they have been doing well at compromising and the whole endeavor has translated into little conflict. Still, he absolutely cannot wait to be done with it.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>It’s another endless Saturday and they’re moving some stuff around, seeing what looks better. It’s heavy work, something he’d much rather pay someone to do, but she insisted they do it themselves because they haven’t settled on what they want yet and she felt it wouldn’t be ideal to have movers come in before the final design is decided.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>What little relief he gets comes from the fact that she’s wearing only a teeny tiny pair of old track shorts she keeps to lounge around the house, and one of his retired t-shirts, which is big enough to practically cover the shorts. He’s been picturing what’s beneath all that fabric as a survival technique to make sure he actually makes it to the evening, when he’ll get to undress her for real.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>“Just a little bit to the left,” Donna instructs. He’s standing on the couch holding up a very heavy painting they’re trying to hang. </p>
</div><div>
  <p>“Donna, you just told me to bring it a little bit to the right,” he complains, voice straining under the effort to keep the painting up.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>“I know, but I’m further away now and I think it’s not centralized,” she at least has the grace to sound apologetic. </p>
</div><div>
  <p>He huffs and does his best to move the object slowly, lest she ends up thinking it’s too much to the left again. </p>
</div><div>
  <p>“That’s perfect!” Donna suddenly exclaims. He carefully sets the painting and leans away, wiping a hand against his forehead to dry off sweat. </p>
</div><div>
  <p>“Any more cabinets you want me to build or marble statues you want me to move?” he asks sarcastically, pursing his lips. “No, I think we’re done for today,” she answers simply and he can see her picking up a towel to clean something as he climbs off the couch.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>“Okay, I’ll go take a shower then,” he announces, eager to cool off and wash the grime of a day of physical labor away. The shower does wonders for his mood, clearing his head. All he wants now is to watch a move and lounge with Donna on their newly-rearranged couch. </p>
</div><div>
  <p>He’s reminded why he loves her when he enters the kitchen to find her leaning against the island, two bowls of ice cream and a cold beer waiting for him. His smile instantly turns sheepish as he concludes he is an absolute jerk.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>“Thank you for your monumental efforts in getting our home ready,” she says gently and a tiny bit sarcastically, her arms snaking around his waist. He flashes her a lopsided grin, “Alright, point taken.” Then he ducks, presses his lips against hers and starts reaping the rewards. </p>
</div><div>
  <p>Turns out the shower and his wife’s affection really do soften him, because when he turns around to look at the living room, beer in hand, he’s struck by how nice the place looks. The painting he just hung matches the couch perfectly and yes, she was right, the velvet was a better choice than the leather. </p>
</div><div>
  <p>There are still boxes in the corner and assorted silverware on the dining table but the house looks more like home than his apartment did in all the years he lived there. </p>
</div><div>
  <p>He’s overcome with pride for them, their courage to take the leap and finally be together, to move cities and try something completely new. He’s proud of them for hanging their own paintings and arranging their own things.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>“What do you say we make good use of the couch and watch something?” Harvey proposes as he wraps an arm around her middle, taking a sip of his beer. </p>
</div><div>
  <p>“That sounds great,” Donna smiles softly, “But first, I finished setting up the sound system while you showered. I thought we could have a little dance party in our new living room.”</p>
</div><div>
  <p>He chuckles at the suggestion and at the fact that this is indeed their - shared - living room in their new - shared - life.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>Donna wanders over to the stereo, grabs her phone and taps the screen until music fills the room: a choir, mellow-sounding.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>Elton John starts singing as soon as she takes his hand, playfully pulling him to the center of the room.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>He scrunches up his nose. “Could you have picked anything tackier?” he ribs as she pulls his arms back and forth in time with the rhythm. “Don’t forget we share a Spotify account; I know you’ve been listening to the Rocketman album on repeat since we watched it,” she replies, eyebrows raised and smirk in place.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>“Jesus, can’t a man have his privacy anymore?” he rolls his eyes despite the slight sway of his hips. Donna just grins, “Maybe start a diary?”</p>
</div><div>
  <p>He scoffs humoredly, grabs her hand and spins her, to which she laughs. They dance playfully, less interested in getting the steps right than having fun together. Finally he pulls her in, holding her close and swaying as the song speaks of headlights on highways and sheets of linen.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>“Hey,” Donna suddenly perks up, “This is our first dance in this house.” “And you chose Elton John,” Harvey counters, though by now it’s obvious he doesn’t mean in.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>“Come on, it kinda sounds like us,” she cocks her head, lacing their fingers together. </p>
</div><div>
  <p>“You’re not a ballerina,” he points out skeptically. “Well, I didn’t marry a music man either but that’s beside the point,” she argues, “I just think it has the right vibe. It’s intimate and optimistic and kind of whimsical.”</p>
</div><div>
  <p>Harvey shakes his head goodnaturedly, “Leave it to you to make an impassioned defense of Tiny Dancer as our first dance in our new place.” Donna just shrugs, “I like what I like.” He doesn’t miss her smug smirk, though. </p>
</div><div>
  <p>“Well, in that case, my dad was a musician, that’s close enough,” Harvey suggests. “And I’m not a ballerina but I do go on stage occasionally,” Donna adds conspiratorily. </p>
</div><div>
  <p>“That settles it then,” he concludes, bringing her in for a kiss. He twirls her once again and she rocks him side to side as the music approaches its end.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>She takes a look around the room. “I like what you’ve done with the place,” she comments softly, a small smile on her lips. “I like what you’ve done with me,” is his instant response, voice mellow.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>“This from the guy who just called Elton John tacky?” she quirks a brow even as she presses closer to him. “I have my moments,” he smirks before pulling her in. </p>
</div><div>
  <p>It’s surreal to be standing here, with Donna, in a house in Seattle. Harvey sees now that he used to be lost, searching for things he couldn’t name all in the wrong places. </p>
</div><div>
  <p>She’s led him to challenge his views on the world, on himself, everything he thought he was so certain about. He meant it when he said she changed his life forever, and the ways in which that’s true keep manifesting themselves each day. </p>
</div><div>
  <p>He can’t wait to see what they do next.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>She holds his hand firmly, fingers wrapping around his. She’s a little unsteady on her feet, but he holds her up and the first few chords of Tiny Dancer come on, instantly warming his chest and taking him back to that first dance years ago.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>She looks down, around the room, but his eyes stay focused on her. He’s absolutely transfixed. </p>
</div><div>
  <p>Once they reach the chorus she lets out a giggle and truly starts dancing. Harvey looks over his shoulder at Donna, who’s sitting on the back of the couch, feet near him on the cushion. </p>
</div><div>
  <p>“Who would have thought, you willingly picking Elton John for a first dance,” Donna jokes, smirking knowingly. “In my defense, this time there is an actual tiny dancer,” Harvey grins as he looks back at Joanna, who wobbles on her knees gleefully. </p>
</div><div>
  <p>The girl waves her arms above her head and coos along to the song, eliciting laughter from her parents. Harvey feels Donna rest a hand on his back and squeeze his shoulder affectionately. </p>
</div><div>
  <p>He had never put actual thought into being a father, it always seemed too far away from his reality to even consider. But as cliché as it sounds, with Donna everything seems conceivable, within reach. Things he didn’t know he wanted, had never allowed himself to dream of - a house, marriage, a child - she’s given him all. </p>
</div><div>
  <p>The fact that he’s sitting in his living room with the love of his life next to him as they watch their daughter dance for the first time would almost feel impossible if it weren’t for the very real warmth in his chest. He loves them so much he feels his heart might burst open at any moment. </p>
</div><div>
  <p>When he looks back again he sees Donna holding up her phone, recording the scene. </p>
</div><div>
  <p>For years to come he will rewatch this video, see the joy in his daughter’s face as she bops and wiggles; the way Donna unexpectedly turns the camera to him, too close; he’ll see himself shying away, a grin on his lips and a hand coming out to cover the lens. He’ll see it when the camera turns to his shoulder and then awkwardly goes a grainy dark brown, and he’ll remember how he kissed her then, and how life has only been getting better since.</p>
</div>
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